The Beauty Within
by unamadridista
Summary: After a professional setback, Belle moves to a small town of Reval to be closer to her ailing father. Soon she finds employment in the house of Arend Grafton, an eccentric owner with a tragic past. Despite their differences, they find themselves drawn to each other, but dark houses hold dark secrets and their owners may prove to be just as dangerous. Adult readers only, please.


**This is a modern day re-telling of _Disney's Beauty and the_**_** Beast** _**set in a fictional town of Reval. ****I do not own any of the characters and do not make any profit from this. **

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The early morning sun shone brightly as a solitary woman hurried along the crumbling pavement, clutching a book firmly in her hand. The streets were nearly deserted as very few residents were up at such early hour. It had been exactly one week since Belle Monceaux moved back to Reval, a small village of about 900 residents. Since losing her job at a publishing house in Paris, Belle moved back to live with her father, Maurice. She enjoyed spending more time with him, which is why she was surprised at the sudden onset of loneliness. Though Reval was a quiet, provincial town, it offered bleak prospects for employment or social life for a vibrant twenty-five year old woman. The only person who showed any interest in her was Gaston, the local game hunter. She had lunch with him her first day in town, but he proved to be arrogant and narcissistic. Even after one week, his attentions had become tiresome and unwelcome.

She continued at her brisk pace until she reached the local library. Mr. Ronchard, the librarian, was always happy to see her and discuss books. This particular morning, however, he had something else of great interest to her.

"I have some exciting news for you, Belle," he said after they've exchanged their usual greetings. "I got a call for a job posting yesterday. Mr. Cogsworth of Grafton Place called enquiring about hiring someone to catalogue the books in their library. I reckon you'd be good for it. You're more qualified than anybody around and it should tide you over until you can find something else." He handed her a piece of paper with contact information on it.

Belle's eyes shot up in surprise. "I didn't know anyone lived in Grafton Place. Everyone talks about it around here like it's abandoned."

He shook his hand. "Oh, no, dear child. Arend Grafton still lives there. Keeps to himself though since that terrible accident."

"What accident?" she asked, her curiosity peaking.

"Very sad business. Happened about fourteen years ago. Poor soul was badly injured in a car wreck. He was such a handsome youth but it all changed that night. Wasn't much the doctors could do about it; his face was burned and scared. I suppose they tried patching it up the best they could, but he was never the same. His fiancée ran off on him shortly after. He hasn't been around much since then. He travels abroad, but he's still up on that big ol' mansion. They say a gypsy put a curse of that entire family."

"What do you mean?" Belle asked.

The elderly man sadly sighed. "Well, their butler came here a few years ago and told me how before the accident an old gypsy woman came to the house seeking shelter during a very nasty storm. Apparently, Graftons turned her away and she said she'll put a curse on the entire household. From then on, tragedy followed those poor folks. Everything went wrong for them, especially that poor fellow."

Belle's heart clenched at the tale. "Well, I'd certainly apply for the job, even if it's only temporary. It's the best prospect I've come across all week."

"Like I said, you're more qualified for it than anyone in town. Beside, no one 'round these parts wants anything to do with that place for fear of falling to gypsy's curse."

A chill ran down Belle's spine at his last words, but she quickly dismissed it; she needed a steady paycheck, after all. After she picked up a new book, Belle thanked Monsieur Ronchard and walked back home, eager to make that call to Mr. Cogsworth.

Through the fog of her thoughts, she heard an obnoxious voice call out to her, "Hey, gorgeous!"

Belle glanced up to see Gaston striding up to her.

"Hello Gaston," she politely replied, not keen to enter into a lengthy conversation.

"So when are we going on that date you owe me?"

She winced. "Gaston, I never promised you a date. I told you, I'm not interested."

"Aw, stop playing hard to get, baby. You know we'd have a good time."

"Really, Gaston. I told you, I can't."

"Oh, come on. It's not as though there's much else to do. You don't want to be stuck at home, reading those boring old library books, do you?" He gestured to the book in her hands.

"Well, I happen to enjoy curling up with a good book," she countered.

"Baby, you read too much. You need a break from all that."

"Some people enjoy reading, Gaston. It's a great way to experience far away places and go on exciting adventures."

"Nah. Movies are much better for that stuff. Besides, why would anyone want to leave this place?"

"To experience different cultures, perhaps?" she wearily offered.

"Why? This place has everything we need."

"Some people happen to like big cities. I am one of them." What does it take to get rid of this guy?

"Let's debate this on Friday, over dinner at the pub."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I told you, I can't…"

Her words went unacknowledged as he walked off and crossed the street. Belle continued on her way, but was soon accosted by Claudette, the local hairdresser.

"Did Gaston just ask you out?" she inquired.

"Yes, but…"

"Ooh, you lucky thing! You know Paulette was saying the other day how you really ought to move things along with him if you want to get married. At your age, you'd better hurry and not let him get away."

Belle fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm not really interested in a marriage right now."

Claudette looked scandalized. "Why not? Surely, you don't want to be a spinster with a five cats!"

"Why is it either a choice between a rushed marriage or spinsterhood? I only said I'm not interested in marriage now, not that I'm not interested in it period. And I think I'd prefer spinsterhood to settling for the first man who asks."

The blonde's wide blue eyes widened. "I didn't mean it like that. I hope you're not offended."

"No worries, Claudette. Listen, I have to go now. Have a nice day."

As soon as she arrived home, Belle settled into the privacy of her room before dialing Grafton Place. Mr. Cogsworth picked up the phone with a stony greeting.

"Mr. Cogsworth, my name is Belle Monceaux and I'm calling in regards to a cataloguing position in your library. I have a Master's in Library Science, but I've worked for the past year as an editorial assistant at Libella publishing house in Paris."

"Monsieur Ronchard did highly recommend you. Are you available to come for an interview tomorrow at around ten in the morning?" his cultured voice coolly asked.

"Yes, certainly."

"I will see you then. Good day to you."

"Thank you."

Hanging up, she diligently gathered her resume and cover letter for tomorrow. At dinner she excitedly told her father the good news. Although Maurice was worried about her new prospect at the old manor, he assured her of his support. The owner might be eccentric, but it would be good for Belle to be around her beloved books again.

Next morning, Belle nervously made her way toward the grand mansion. The closer she got, the more deserted the streets became until she found herself walking entirely alone with not a soul in sight. Finally, after half an hour, she stopped in front of wrought iron gates of the 19th century mansion. She took in the Neo-Romanesque style, admiring the elegant, symmetrical spires and high windows. The gray, aged brick gave it a rather gothic air. Belle wondered how she would gain access when she didn't see anything resembling a doorbell or a buzzer. All worry was brushed aside, as the gates easily swung open at one touch. Belle walked along the graveled driveway toward the front porch. The sprawling lawn appeared well-tended, but there were no flowers of any kind, not even in the stone pots. By the time she rang the doorbell by the front door, she felt oddly intimidated by the eerily quiet atmosphere around the place.

With a loud clonk, the heavy locks turned and the door heavily opened. A tall, pale butler ushered her in. He introduced himself as Louis Lumiere. Belle explained the reason for her visit and Lumiere led her down the dimly lit hallway, past the beautiful carved staircase. Despite the obvious grandeur, the interior noticeably wore signs of neglect. The runners on the floor had frayed, faded edges and the wood floors exhibited numerous scratches. The air itself had stifling, stale quality as if the house hadn't been aired in years. The most peculiar thing was that all the windows were covered in heavy drapes, even though the morning promised a beautiful, sunny day.

She followed Lumiere to a large office room as he prattled on about the house. At the large desk neatly lined with documents, sat a large, middle aged man with glasses perched on his small nose. Lumiere announced her and walked out, closing the door behind him. Mr. Cogsworth curiously looked over her resume and asked her predictable questions, which Belle eloquently answered. By the end, he announced dispassionately that she was hired and took down her personal information for a background check and explained the details of her salary, which she considered very generous. Afterwards, he led her down the long corridor to show her the library. He opened the large double doors and flipped the light switch. Belle gasped in shock at the sight before her: three floors were stocked from floor to ceiling with bookshelves full of books with two spiral staircases in the center and two more on each side of her. To her left was a large desk with a solitary computer and to her right a cozy reading nook with plush chairs and loveseats.

There was about half a year of work awaiting her, at least! Of course, the floor to ceiling windows were also covered with the same heavy drapes as the ones she passed on her way here. She wondered if she would be allowed to open them once she started working.

After she finished gawking at the room, Mr. Cogsworth announced that he will introduced her to the owner, Arend Grafton. He led her down the long hallway to a large office. Two low lamps on an ornate mahogany table cast a dim light in the room. Further in the room stood a high-backed chair in front of a large-screen TV. Mr. Cogsworth walked up to the person sitting in it and whispered a few words. A tall man swiftly rose up and beckoned her to come closer. Belle slowly walked up to him and shook his extended hand.

"I'm Belle Monceaux, sir."

"Arend Grafton."

Belle sucked in a deep breath as she stared at the most luminous cerulean eyes she had ever seen; their sheer beauty was almost hypnotic. Taking in the rest of him, she could see the rough skin of the left side of his face, but it didn't look burned in this light, merely prematurely aged. What was far more noticeable on that side of his face was the jagged, deep scar that traveled from his cheek all the way down to his neck. And while certainly jarring, these injuries didn't deform him as Monsieur Ronchard had implied. Beyond the scar and roughened skin, he appeared to be rather striking. His face was pale and thin, but he had high cheekbones and strong jawline. If his patrician features had less tension, he'd be considered quite handsome. His dark blonde mane of hair may have had premature steaks of gray, but regular brushing would help to bring back the luster it lost.

He appeared to be studying her with haughty disdain, prompting her to snap out of her reverie.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Monceaux," his tone was polite, but cold. "I see that you have become familiar with your task."

"Yes, I have. I have to honest, it'll take months for me to digitally catalogue everything in there."

"That's fine. I don't have a time-table for this. Time is…well…" He paused, before continue, "As far as I am concerned, you have all the time in the world."

She smiled at him. "I may just take you up on that."

"As long as you work here, you have complete freedom to go anywhere in the house and grounds, except the West Wing upstairs. Those are my private quarters and I do not want my employees wandering around up there. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, sir," she agreed.

"Good. You may go now and come back tomorrow morning promptly at nine. Lumiere will show you out. Have a good day, Miss Monceaux."

"You too, Mr. Grafton." They shook hands once more and Belle walked out the door, leaving the two men together in the room.

Lumiere showed her out and Belle walked out in a daze. Looking back at the imposing gray edifice, she felt a shiver course down her spine. She had an odd sense of premonition that her life was about to change, but she was uncertain whether that change would be for better or for worse.

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**If you have a minute, any feedback is always appreciated :)**


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